Lyfe grinned when he heard Ghost's voice laden with excitement. He didn't think that he was that interesting, but he could see the appeal in cracking the mystery that was the ringmaster. Lyfe was aware that he wasn't much of an open book and in his defence, not many of his carnies were either, but being the ringmaster, it was to be expected that he share a tidbit...at the most, of his life's story.
Lyfe allowed Ghost to ramble off with a plethora of questions and information about his story. He tried to imagine the other man's mother and what she might have looked like. She might have the same green eyes as the other man, or the same nose or pink lips. He doubted that he'd ever find out. When Ghost was done with his idle talking, Lyfe rested his elbow on his knee then propped his chin on his knuckles, surveying the other man with amusement.
"Moses..." He tasted the name on his tongue, savoring it. "I like it, I think I'll call you that from here on out. It suits you nicely." He took a deep breath as his fingers idly fiddled with the buttons of his vest. "My name is Eden," he looked up at Moses, searching his face for a reaction. "And believe it or not, I'm thirty-five. I look like a teenager, I'm fully aware. If I ever grow my beard out, I'm sure I'll look my age." He chuckled a bit before continuing, "I was born in Manchester, England." There was a short pause as he gulped. When was the last time he discussed his childhood...if ever? "I don't necessarily have a family. My father killed my mother and himself right in front of me when I was merely one year old. I was in and out of the orphanage until I turned sixteen. I didn't graduate high school, nor did I attend college. I taught myself by stealing novels and reading during my spare time and challenging myself by learning words out of the dictionary." He smiled, but there was a sadness about it, for he did yearn for a normal education, but just wasn't dealt the right hand. He learned to cope with the fact that he wasn't as lucky, but it didn't stop him from thinking about what could have been.
"I had to find work at an early age because I ran away from my foster family. I was homeless," he released a sigh. "Didn't have much, but a few pounds and a bag of clothes to my name. Finding work wasn't easy and I hope that what I tell you next doesn't change your perspective of me." He went back to idly picking at his vest, eyes moving to the sheets of his bed. "I was wrapped up in the escort business before I built this place." He laughed humorlessly, eyes glazing over as he heard the delicate moans of the women he pleased ringing in his ears and saw the plethora of clients requesting his company. "Prostitution was the only way I could make ends meet and then some. My first time was with a stranger...she didn't even remember my name, but she remembered my price." His eyes were on Moses now, his face a bit hard. "I ran away from that life...like I run away from everything..." He snapped out of his reverie, pulling a coy smile onto his face, though it didn't reach his eyes. "As for my happiest memory, I'd say it was back when I was adopted by the Petersons. It was my first Christmas with them and I just figured that it was going to be like every other one I've endured." He bit his bottom lip as the memories flooded his mind. "I usually didn't get presents, let alone celebrate Christmas, but the Petersons went all out. We had a tree that sparkled with beautiful lights, a mistletoe over the entranceway, and actual presents. We spent the day singing carols and opening gifts. It was the first time that I felt like I was a member of an actual family. I was fifteen at the time." He allowed his golden eyes to rest on Moses's face. "Like I said, Moses," his lips quirked at the sound of his real name. "I'm a mess."